


My Soulmate is a Serial Killer

by AiFlora



Category: How I Unintentionally Became a Serial killer
Genre: (According to Leo), Blood Kink, Blood and Injury, How I Unintentionally Became a serial killer - Freeform, Implied Torture, It’s consensual because Leo has some screws loose, Knifeplay, Lima Syndrome, M/M, Serial Killers, Soulmates, Webtoon, no killing in this story though, webcomic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 00:48:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30080922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AiFlora/pseuds/AiFlora
Summary: Roquen was finally learning to trust someone other than his brother, and Leo promised, with every subsequent kiss, that he would be worthy of that trust.
Relationships: Roquen/Leo
Kudos: 1





	My Soulmate is a Serial Killer

**Author's Note:**

> Roquen and Leo are so cute that I often forget that BOTH brothers are sociopathic killers and that Leo cant be sane for liking a serial killer.  
> So this short fic attempts to delve a little deeper into the understated insanity of their relationship dynamic.

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when it all started. The obvious answer would be the day of their first kill, but they’d talked about doing it long before going through with it. He used to think it was they day they left their sorry excuse for home for a life of freedom on the road, but, the more he thought about it, Roquen realized their dynamic started long before then. It would be easy to claim that this twisted game they play with the rest of the world didn’t simply start one day, but rather developed and refined itself over time. However, something about the question kept nagging at him to look deeper—that the answer was important.

Either way, Roquen didn’t have an answer to give his overly-comfortable captive, and that bothered him more than it should. Brooklyn and his past was none of Leo’s business. Yet, he asked casually, as though they were friends. It was as if the bound man thought it was normal to flirt with strangers who intend to torture him to death.

The idea made Roquen irrationally angry, and would simply make him pay for his brazen familiarity. The idea worked great in theory, but, looking at the man now, it was hard to keep convincing himself that he wasn’t just giving the insufferably confident jerk exactly what he wanted.

“Look at you Leo. You’re a mess.” Roquen tried his best to sound like his brother—rightfully confident and in charge. The tone was perfected through years of watching and repeating, but the intended effect fell flat. 

Leo moaned, canting his hips in reflex to the insult. Roquen tried his best not to imagine what lewd thoughts had been incited by his half-hearted attempt to find some semblance of humility in his ‘victim.’ He would have to try harder. He’d left his comfort zone hours ago, so what’s one more step towards the abyss that is insanity?

“You enjoy this more than I do? Don’t you you filthy slut.” His cruel words were punctuated with a crisp, unsoiled shoe being pressed painfully into Leo’s straining erection. The words felt weird on his tongue, but he continued pushing foreword. He would make Leo hurt for asking questions that made him hurt.

“We wouldn’t be doing this right now if you didn’t enjoy it as much as me.” His smart-ass reply was answered with a ringing slap across the face, but the pain seemed to only fuel him further.

Smiles had no right to be this sultry when the surrounding face is bruised and puffy. Roquen found himself mesmerized by the blood accentuating the pristine white of Leo’s teeth, his tongue darting out swipe across his own as he imagined how good it would taste.

Something about that unyielding confidence filled him with the burning desire to break him.

It was an unsettling emotion to experience. Brooklyn had always been the one in favor of dragging out their kills. His brother loved the thrill of the hunt and ‘playing with his food,’ and he loved seeing his brother happy.

Keeping this man had been a change in routine for them both. Brooklyn had originally rejected the idea for many logical reasons, but Roquens reason for keeping Leo defied logic. It was the first time he’d done something selfish since deciding to leave with his brother, so Brooklyn let him keep ‘his little stray pet.’ He even made time for longer stays on their trips for Roquen to have moments like these.

Unfortunately, nothing he did seemed to break the man. It even seemed that the more he tried, the more he lost himself instead. Each day he walked further and further away from the comfort he’d established in he and his brother’s routine. 

The more time he spent failing to scare his captive, the more he questioned his own motives, but trying to answer his insecurities was a line he refused to cross. Instead, he had decided today to change his tactics: Today he planned to fight fire with fire.

Stripping the man had been his first attempt at humiliation, and Roquen had considered it a success based on the reddening of his captive’s neck and face. That is, until the he noticed the obvious tent in the man’s underwear when he went to remove it as well. The clothe held strong after the first slice of his knife, and it’s continued existence on Leo’s body served as proof of which of them was more humiliated by the exchange. 

“Please.”

The small, but insistent noise pulled him from his thoughts. He came to his senses inches away from the battered man before him. His captive sat naked on the ground at the foot of his bed. He was in all respects naked, clad only in the remaining shreds of his boxers that did nothing to preserve any modesty. Yet, he seemed to be the one in control—silently commanding his captor to give in to him. 

That thought drove Roquen even deeper into the violent delirium he’s become far too familiar with since picking the bane of his existence up from the side of the road—Since his supposedly unassuming ‘victim’ easily blocked his attack only to counter with a kiss and a compliment that shook Roquen’s world on it’s axis.

The ‘please’ struck a chord in him. The man’s eyes communicated very clearly all that he wanted, and what he wanted was all that Roquen had. The terrifying part was that it had almost worked. He was about to give in and kiss the lips he’d bloodied. _He_ was about to be the one to break.

‘No.’ He thought soundly. ‘Not like this.’ Roquen stood and abruptly left the room. He provided no context, and didn’t look back to notice that he’s finally made a crack in his captives confidence.

He ignored his brother’s concern as he made his way quickly through the house, and out into the pouring rain for a run. The questions he’d been ignoring screamed at him now. They repeated in his head, demanding his attention.

When did he and his brother decide it was ok to kill people?

He said he wanted to keep Leo to break him, but for what reason?

Most importantly though, why did torturing Leo drive him so crazy with lust, when he’d never enjoyed it before?

“I don’t know!” He screamed to the trees, but even they knew that was a lie. Roquen had all the answers, he just couldn’t handle them.

  
  


When Roquen finally returned to the house, he was drenched in rain, sweat and despair. He called for his brother while removing his wet clothing, expecting to find Brooklyn and apologize over dinner. However, he was met with an eerie silence that spoke only of bad things to come.

Swallowing down his trepidation, Roquen searched the house only to find it disturbingly empty. The last place to check was his own room, and he found himself not knowing what he wished to find behind the door.

Whatever he’d wanted, it wasn’t more emptiness, and his gut sank with the weighted feeling of foreboding. They were currently taking advantage of a deserted farmhouse in the middle of no-where, which means his companions could be anywhere within a hundred acre area. There were no drag marks in the dust, or signs of struggle in the furniture. He had no direction to start his search.

Luckily, a loud crash drew his attention out the window to where two figures were obviously fighting, despite the rain blurring the details. Roquen immediately recognized the taller person as his brother, who seemed to be a predator stalking his prey with the controlled and easy movements that came with his years of experience.

Leo was most likely the other figure, and he was putting up a good fight, despite stumbling into everything, as he was pushed steadily back by what Roquen assumed was a knife. He wedged the window up with great difficulty. It screamed as it protested, catching Leo’s attention. The distraction earned him a deep cut across his chest, standing out against the relatively small cuts surrounding it.

“Stop!” Roquen yelled over the rain once he made his way to the ground. The two were wrestling on the muddy ground now, the knife having been sent flying during the distracted attack.

He didn’t expect either to listen—Leo had to keep Brooklyn from killing him, and Brooklyn couldn’t risk Leo escaping. Instead, he dove between the two, trusting his brother to back off not to hurt him, while he took over restraining his captive. All three knew that Leo could overpower Roquen when unrestrained, but he somehow instinctually knew the man wouldn’t want to. Roquen placed a steadying hand around the man’s neck and straddled his legs, pinning them with his own.

“Stop.” He repeated firmly, in the most dominant voice he’d ever attempted. It was calm, commanding and of a low, rumbling frequency. For once, his body language matched—he was serious.

It worked. Leo stopped thrashing and let himself be pinned. The hand around his neck made no efforts to choke or restrict blood flow, and instead acted more as a silent promise:

You are mine—I wont hurt you.

“Brooklyn, are you ok?” He could tell Leo wasn’t, so there was no need to ask.

“Yeah.” His short reply communicated that he was a little confused and very upset.

“Please tell me what happened.” Roquen felt oddly calm, his revelations on his run and the heat from the body below him keeping him grounded.

“He tried to escape.” Roquen could tell Leo wanted to object to Brooklyn’s reasoning, so he sent him a scolding glance to silence him. 

“Ok, I’ll handle that later. Right now, we’re all hungry, wet and cold. Lets get cleaned off, then I’ll lock him back up and you can tell me more over dinner.” It wasn’t a question, and it was at this point Brooklyn could tell that something significant had shifted within his brother. Brooklyn wasn’t normally one to be bossed around, but he let it slide this once, settling for the nonverbal agreement to discuss it over dinner as well.

It was early in the morning by time Roquen finally returned to his room. Leo was sprawled out on the bed, hands cuffed above him, looking as dejected as Roquen had always wanted to make him. It hurt to finally see it.

Leo pretended to be asleep, but neither decided to ruin the obvious charade. Roquen smiled at the realization that he was being given the ‘silent treatment.’ He moved the blanket down to his captive’s hips, tracing his fingers over the bandages where he knew the cuts were. He could tell Leo was doing his best to hold back his reaction, but the pebbling of his nipples and sharpe inhale of breath gave away his obvious pleasure at the attention.

Roquen climbed on top if him, straddling him like he’d done only hours ago. This dragged a heady moan out of the man below him, his hips instinctually bucking up in hopes of friction.

“Roquen?” He asked, his eyes opening and revealing that this was the most vulnerable he’d ever been while in his care. After all this time, and all his torture, it ends up him threatening to leave Leo behind was all it took to break the second man he’d ever allowed into his life.

Leo argued his case while Roquen had silently bathed and patched him up, but the silent captor never clarified who or what he believed. His only response was a simple threat: he would leave Leo tied up in the middle of no where if the man ever tried to run away.

His threat was meant to be the slow and painful death implied by ‘you don’t have to stay here, but we cant let you go back.’ However, what had really shaken Leo was that Roquen questioned his loyalty. Leo had affirmed that he’d rather die than leave him, and Roquen had simply left without another word.

He’d left Leo to sit in his misery born from crushed hope. He’s even showed it off to his brother, promising his Brooklyn what he had threatened his captive. All the while, Roquen’s realizations from his run simmered silently under the surface.

“I admire you.” Roquen admitted. Then it was silent, and the room was still as Leo waited for the other shoe to drop. He could sense the heaviness of the untold significance of that statement, but no elaboration ever came.

Luckily, Leo had figured it out from the beginning: Roquen wanted to break him because he wanted to prove that his confidence was fake—that no victim could maintain who they are, let alone be happy about it.

Roquen wanted to prove this, because accepting the opposite would mean having to come to terms with how his own past has influenced him. It would mean having no excuse to keep being miserable.

The image of his man, confident and strong once again clouded his mind with lust. It was kept in check only by the pain of knowing it was a one sided relationship that could end at anytime based on the whims of Roquen’s temperamental brother.

The moment they had kissed in the car, Leo knew for a fact that he was meant to be with the beautiful creature straddling him, and he would rather die than give up trying to prove this to him. This dedication, he made sure to convey clearly in his eyes. It was a silent promise, but he could tell it hit home when Roquen let out a subtle gasp as his eyes hooded and his mouth slacked.

‘Kiss me.’ They then demanded, the same as they’ve done many times in the past. The same as they’d done right before Roquen had caught himself giving in and left. Any sensible person would have given up after that, but sensible people don’t try and seduce serial killers just because they believe in soulmates.

It worked this time though. Roquen was finally learning to trust someone other than his brother, and Leo promised, with every subsequent kiss, that he would be worthy of that trust.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the stages of grief. Roquen’s not quite at acceptance, but it’s a start.


End file.
